Consecration a Star Wars Oneshot
by PhoenixTen
Summary: The wedding night of two ARC troopers who broke away from the GAR and made new lives for themselves among the Mandalorians and were wed according to Mandalorian law


Consecration

A JorsonxRifler Oneshot

Don't like slash? Don't read.

Rated R for sexuality

The world almost seemed to spin, whirling pleasantly as the day's excitement spun into this last bit of glory as night fell and the stars appeared one by one in the deep azure of the darkening sky. Never had Rifler been happier than today. Today when, to his great surprise, his lover, Jorson, had asked him to marry him. Certainly, the surprise, last minute feast put on at Kyrimorut had been far more than satisfying, but this...this was nothing short of wonderful.

Anticipation gripped Rifler as he and his new husband wrestled playfully in the grass outside, using the stars as their only light source. Their entire world was made up of soft blues and silvers, giving everything an unearthly, almost heavenly feel. The air was cool, but not cold, typical of mid-spring, and the pleased buzzing of nocturnal insects hummed in the background as the two tumbled, laughing with a delight that was as simple as it was pure. This was how life was meant to be, Rifler was sure. Finally, Jorson bested him, pinning him to the ground and smiling down at him, dark eyes glimmering in the starlight. Bending down, Jorson kissed Rifler softly on the mouth.

Rifler returned the kiss, the rest of his body limp as their mouths locked, tongues playing, sliding against one another. Eventually though, Rifler had to break away, breathing heavily.

"Ny kar'taylii gar, Jor'ika," Rifler said huskily.

"I love you too," Jorson replied, lowering himself down onto his elbows so that their bodies pressed against one another.

The sensation sent thrills down Rifler's spine. Relaxing fully into the soft grass, Rifler kissed his husband again, lifting his arms up and around Jorson's neck, pulling him in. It was a delicious feeling, one that made his every doubt, his ever fear evaporate onto the cool night air as long as they were together. It was a perfect peace and joy that Rifler could attain no other way, but one that left him content whenever he was merely in the presence of his lover.

Jorson moaned, deepening the kiss and Rifler accepted it, taking the other man's tongue into his mouth as his hips ground into the other man seemingly of their own accord. He could feel Jorson hardening, this serving only to bring his own excitement to a head. He bucked impatiently, his cybernetic arm, now covered in synthflesh, snaking down to let the fingers dance across the bared flesh between the other man's shirt hem and pants.

Jorson made a noise between a gasp and whimper and he pulled away, rolling onto his back.

Concerned, Rifler curled up beside him in tandem, almost as if they had moved together on purpose. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly.

Jorson lay on his back, panting. Finally, he choked, "I wanted to make tonight special for you...but I feel like I'm just doing things the same way we always do."

Rifler raised an eyebrow. Then he realized what Jorson meant and kissed him softly. "It's you. That means it's always special."

Jorson didn't look convinced.

It didn't take but a moment for Rifler to figure out how to rectify the situation, and he moved instantly, rolling farther and pushing upward so that he swung over Jorson and sat, straddling his lover. He leaned down and kissed him again, his mouth working away from Jorson's and across his jaw to his neck, the occasional nip making Jorson moan in rapture, Rifler's hands moving all the while as they fumbled with Jorson's pants, fighting the closure.

As the man's pants finally gave, the waistband suddenly loose, Jorson reached up and pulled at Rifler's shirt. He moved, aiding Jorson as they continued to free each other of their clothing piece by piece, discarding them any which direction onto the the cool grass until they were both nude, the faint silver-blue light of the stars giving them both eerie highlights and making Rifler's stark black tattooing seem as if it was devouring all light that tried to grace it.

Again, Rifler straddled his lover, his mind and body both hungry for what was to come. Both of the two men were hard and breathing heavier than normal, but both held back, knowing that the longer they waited, the sweeter it would feel to them both later. But Rifler finally broke, unable to take it any longer. Lifting himself up slightly, Rifler reached back and guided Jorson inside him, gasping as he penetrated. It was ecstasy laced with a sweet pain as gravity helped pull Rifler down, pushing his lover deeper within him.

Using his thighs, Rifler lifted himself up, struggling to keep his balance as Jorson moved beneath him, mouth slightly open. As he pressed back down again, Rifler bent forward, his lips just brushing Jorson's chest. He straightened again, and Jorson's hands came up, caressing Rifler's sides as they began moving as one, their motions becoming more fluid, almost graceful.

It was a tender love, far more delicate than either would normally want to bother with, but tonight was special. This was the consecration of their marriage, something that could only happen once in their lifetimes. And they would enjoy it fully.

Eventually though, muscles burning, Rifler began to lose his ability to maintain such a slow pace, as wonderful as it felt. Jorson could tell he was tiring, too, and forced himself up, catching Rifler and lowering him gently onto his back. From there, Rifler's legs still raised, Jorson was able to thrust more easily, doing his best to maintain the slow, sensual pace they had been keeping. It wasn't easy.

One of Rifler's hands brushed Jorson's side, the other in the grass over his head, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as Jorson thrust in and out of him. With a soft moan, Rifler moved just slightly beneath Jorson, one of his feet hooking back behind Jorson's buttocks, seeming to pull him in harder. Jorson obliged readily, his own body beginning to demand for release.

Rifler was almost delirious from the sensations when Jorson lowered himself further, his belly putting pressure on Rifler's member, the friction hightening the already powerfully erotic sensations rippling through his being. Even as Jorson's thrusting became harder, coming faster, the other man maintained the delicate sensuality of the night by kissing Rifler again, their mouths locking together as they moved. Eventually though, it was too much and Jorson pulled away, his hips almost pounding against Rifler's, a soft slapping sound coming with each thrust as their skin met for a brief moment before being separated again.

Usually Rifler was against making much noise when he was with someone, but he found himself moaning softly, almost mewling, as Jorson pumped inside him. Tonight was special. He didn't care as long as it was wonderful, and, so far, he was not disappointed.

Slowly, Jorson's motions became more desperate. Rifler knew what it meant and was briefly disappointed that it could not last longer, but he quickly realized that it was better than if both of them tired out before either other them could reach that moment of exquisite, utter release. He moved with his lover, his senses somehow becoming stronger still, feeling each scrap of touch more acutely as his focus shifted away from himself and over to helping his lover reach his peak.

They moved together, as if they were locked together in a strangely exotic, yet impossibly ancient dance, each trying to please the other, somehow doing so for themselves at the same time.

Finally, Rifler felt Jorson convulse as he pressed hard and deep within him and his lover gasped as he filled Rifler. Still gulping air, Jorson managed a couple more thrusts before pulling out and all but collapsing to the ground beside Rifler as they kissed again. Rifler hadn't reached the pinnacle of their night yet, though, and Jorson's hand reached down, gripping and stroking him as their mouths continued to play with each other. It was a simple pleasure, a selfless gift shared between them. Something more ancient than the Kaminoans could ever take out of a human no matter how much they played with Fett's genome: the need to love and be loved in return. And it was beautiful.

Finally, Rifler peaked as well, the resulting spurt shooting partly off into the grass, some sticking to Jorson's hand. The pure beauty of the feeling dropped Rifler into a delicious haze where, briefly, everything was perfect and the world was a living eden. When he opened his eyes, Jorson was looking down at him with a smile, caressing him with one hand while the other wiped itself off in the grass.

Yes. This was a perfect night.

Rifler pushed gently at Jorson, who dropped to the ground on his side at the touch, allowing Rifler to curl up beside him, nuzzling close for a few minutes before they dressed and slipped back indoors.

Once inside, under the soft blankets of their warm shared bed, they were able to snuggle to their hearts' content before slipping into a deep slumber in each other's arms.


End file.
